


Fistfights On Tavern Nights

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Established Relationship, Fights, Fist Fights, Haytham's not exactly a jerk here, Humor, Only a wee bit, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: “I can tell that he wants to know you…wants to have that connection to you…but he’s scared to put anything into the relationship because the future is uncertain.”He didn’t need to say anything, but he did anyway. “Uncertain? He is afraid we’ll end up facing one another.”She nodded, muttering, “Ratonhnhaké:ton is stronger than you. His convictions and will are too. If the two of you came to blows…I’ve no illusions that you’ll walk away from that fight alive.”
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Fistfights On Tavern Nights

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about this and it wouldn't leave me until I wrote it. I hope you enjoy! -Thorne

“We could always climb the wall?” He hummed as she suggested it, eyes shifting between the doors and the side wall. “C’mon Ratonhnhaké:ton, it’d be easier than barging in through the front doors.” Again, he hummed, still deciding and she let out a groan, propping her chin on his bicep. “ _Fine…take forever_.”

Connor snorted, glancing down at her. “You do not want to fight (Y/N)?”

She glared up at him, countering, “Considering the fact that the last time I got involved in a head-on fight, I got shot? _No. No I don’t want to fight_.”

Connor crossed his arms over his chest, asking, “What if we get inside and then we have to fight?”

“What if we get inside and we _don’t_ have to fight?”

“What if we get inside and there are more soldiers than we realize are inside?”

“What if we get inside and there _aren’t_ more soldiers inside?”

“What if—”

An annoyed scoff cut them off, “Oh, dear god! Save the lover’s miff for another time! We’re on a mission that requires your full attentions!” The two assassins tipped their heads, catching sight of the older templar standing behind them, a look of irritation on his face.

(Y/N) narrowed her gaze, ordering, “Hey, _old man_ , _shut it, or I’ll shut it for you_. If we want your opinion, _we’ll ask for it_.” Haytham’s eyes went wide at her words, and for a moment, he seemed to be stunned silent.

This prompted Connor to bark a laugh, quipping, “Well, well, Mister-Smart-Mouth is rendered speechless?” He glanced down at (Y/N), acknowledging, “ _Well done, otsi'tsa_.”

She furrowed her brows, thrusting a thumb back at Haytham, who had a mixture of anger and hurt crossing his face. “ _What? Like it’s hard? He’s old_. _All you gotta do to make men feel bad about themselves is point out things they try to ignore. His knees pop when he tries to sneak._ ”

“That is _not_ true.”

(Y/N) cocked an eyebrow, taunting, “You sure this is the game you wanna play _old man_?” She smirked, sweetly adding, “I _really_ don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

Haytham took a step towards her, ignoring how Connor turned fully to him, soldiers squared and ready to defend her if the situation arose. “ _Try me_.”

She shrugged then pressed the back of her hand to Connor’s chest, directing, “Go fight without me, this’ll take a while.”

He frowned, looking at her. “I do not want to leave you alone with him.”

(Y/N) scoffed, meeting Haytham’s gaze. “Haytham’s not gonna kill me, are you Haytham?” The templar shook his head and she looked back at Connor. “We might get into a _fistfight_ , but nothing serious.” She nodded to the fort. “ _Go_.”

The other assassin stayed a moment, before staring at his father, hissing, “ _If you start anything serious with her, I will finish it_.” Haytham merely rolled his eyes but nodded and Connor placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear before taking off.

Once he’d made it to the fort, she reached her weapons belt, undoing it before tossing it aside. After, she undid the hidden blades at her wrists, adding them to the pile. She raised her fists, challenging, “Alright, let’s go, old man.”

An eyebrow arched on his face and he inquired, “You’re _serious_ about fighting me?”

(Y/N) dropped her fists, deadpanning, “ _No, I’ve just got my weapons belt thrown aside and my arms raised because I enjoy looking like an absolute fucking idiot_.”

Haytham chuckled as he undid his hidden blade, stowing it in his tricorn before placing it on the ground. “ _You said it, not me_.”

She huffed, grinning as he pulled off his sword and pistol belts. “Okay, now I’m _really_ gonna kick your ass.” He matched her grin, and she could see the seething anger stirring in his steel eyes. Stepping forward, she dared, “ _May the best fighter win_.”

** An Hour Later: **

Holding his arm, he trekked back up the hill. Clearing the fort had given the patriots new supplies, but he’d taken a few wounds of his own, meaning he’d be out of the fight for a week or two. He’d managed to stop the bleeding in his arm, but the cut still stung, and he bit the inside of his cheek at the pain. As he neared the top, he caught sight of (Y/N) and his father sitting side by side, passing a bottle back and forth. He’d never been one to eavesdrop unless necessary, but the way they laughed made him wonder what had occurred in the mere hour he’d been gone, and before he could stop himself, he started creeping behind them, silently listening.

“Do you ever think Connor’s hard to understand at times?”

(Y/N) hummed as she took a sip from the bottle. “When we first met? _Sure_. But now? _Nah_. He’s pretty easy to read.”

Haytham scoffed as she handed it over. “You’re joking?”

She huffed a laugh, countering, “ _Pot meet kettle_.”

“ _I am not like him_.”

(Y/N) pulled a solemn face, nodding her head. “ _Yes, you are. The two of you are as stubborn as mules_.”

“That doesn’t mean I act like him, or vice versa.”

“ _Haytham, you do realize you’re his father, right? Like half of that boy comes from you_.”

His face pinched and he raised a hand to his mouth, massaging his cheek. “You have a good left hook.”

(Y/N) grinned as she took the bottle back. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” She observed him a moment, then surmised, “ _You’re afraid to get closer to him because you’re scared it’ll cloud your judgment_.” Haytham said nothing and she turned her attention to the street. “ _If it makes you feel any better, he’s scared too_.” (Y/N) could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. “ _I can tell that he wants to know you…wants to have that connection to you…but he’s scared to put anything into the relationship because the future is uncertain._ ”

He didn’t need to say anything, but he did anyway. “Uncertain? He is afraid we’ll end up facing one another.”

She nodded, muttering, “ _Ratonhnhaké:ton is stronger than you. His convictions and will are too. If the two of you came to blows…I’ve no illusions that you’ll walk away from that fight alive._ ”

She handed him the bottle and Haytham stared into the whiskey before murmuring, “Why are you telling me this, (Y/N)?”

She took a deep breath before looking at him, staring into his eyes as she declared, “ _Because you gave my father a second chance to do the right thing_.” At the mention of her father, Haytham’s eyes went wide and she continued, “ _I’m giving you the same chance_. _To be a better man, a better father to your son. To change what could happen for something better._ ”

Connor, who’d been silent up until now, decided to stop eavesdropping, stepping forward. “The fort has been cleared.” The two turned to look at him from their spots, and he immediately glared at Haytham, condemning, “ _What did you do_!” Connor started towards (Y/N) who grinned as he knelt beside her, gently taking her face in his hands. He tilted her head up, examining her. “Are you alright, otsi'tsa?”

She nodded, reaching up to grab his hand; pressing a kiss to his palm, she replied, “Honestly, Ratonhnhaké:ton, if you think this is bad, you should’ve seen the time I came out of the barfight back in Saint Augustine.” She tipped her head towards Haytham. “ _Besides, I handed your dad his ass._ ”

“ _You did not_.”

(Y/N) snorted, but it dissolved into a hiss as Connor dabbed at her bloodied lip. “ _Owwww_.”

He frowned at her then turned his attention to his father. “You should not have aimed for the face.”

Haytham pointed to his eyebrow. “ _She hit me in the face first. I was getting even_.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, wondering aloud, “I wonder how my dad would feel about his dear old friend beating up his innocent daughter.” She chuckled. “ _Hey, maybe I should send the old bastard a letter and tell him_!”

Connor’s lips tugged down, and he whispered, “ _Do not make light of what makes your heart heavy, otsi‘tsa_.”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but he had a good point, and she sighed, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” He pulled away, holding out his hand to her. (Y/N) took it, letting him pull her to his feet before he turned away, offering it to Haytham. His father seemed surprised, but took it and as they all stood, (Y/N) offered, “Say…since we’re all tired and hungry, why don’t we get something to eat?”

Connor dropped his gaze and Haytham said, “It’s getting late. I should get back to file reports—” She sent him a look then looked between Connor and him, and he followed, “ _I suppose the reports can wait until tomorrow_.” Awkwardly, he gestured to the street. “ _Connor, (Y/N), would you like to eat dinner with me_?”

She nudged Connor in the side, and he looked over at her. Smiling, she nodded, and he sighed before agreeing, “Dinner sounds good.” (Y/N) took Connor’s hand and they started towards the tavern.

Haytham followed close behind, watching the way they joked and laughed, and, for once in many years, he felt like his heart wasn’t on the verge of breaking. Perhaps (Y/N) was right…maybe there was still a chance to change.


End file.
